Awsome Title Here
by iliveonlytokill
Summary: The Foot and the Purple Dragons put thier heads together and come up with briliants plan. Only thier plan s  run away from them and stummble across four mutant turtles. Told from the view point of one of my Oc's, and yes this story higly contains OC'c.


Chapter One

He ran. The air clawed painfully at his lungs with each desperate gasp of air. Each intake of breath echoed loudly around him, bouncing off the walls of the dark damp sewer. His bruised and battered feet slapped wetly against the cold cement, with every pounding step a jolt of pain jumped up his legs from his feet. Blood. He could smell it. His feet, they were bleeding. That was bad. They could follow the trail of bloody foot prints and find him. No! Not right now! He couldn't think about that right know! If he thought too much his pace would slow. Run. Fast. Don't. Stop.

His sore muscles screamed at him, begging him to slow, to stop, to rest. He couldn't do that if he slowed, even a little, _THEY_ would catch him. His friends, his dear, dear friends had made themselves bait, so that he, the slower, weaker, clumsier one would have a chance. He ran. He forced himself to breath in the burning air that tore at his lungs and made his throat burn. Then he heard it. Thundering foot falls, echoes of ragged strained breaths. Neither which belonged to him. He forced his already straining body to run faster. It was _THEM_. _THEY _had caught up to him. What about his friends? Where they hurt? Caught? Dead? Worse? NO! Don't think! He couldn't think! Not now! Now he had to run.

Then the sewers fells silent again, only the pathetic sound of his own feet painfully slapping the cement, and only the desperate sound of his own ragged, uncontrollable breath echoed off the walls. He stumbled to a stop, gripping the foul smelling sewer wall to stay on his throbbing feet. Where did _THEY _go? TRICK. His mind screamed the answer at him as his body tried to take flight once again, resulting in him collapsing onto his knees as soon as he stepped away from the wall. He forcibly dragged the stale air in through his mouth, waiting for _THEM_ to lunge from the darkness and drag him back to that hell. Hell. That is what Rug had told him that place was he first asked that question. Rug. Where was he, and the others, his friends. Gone.

The whisper of shuffling feet was barley heard over his own wheezing breaths. That was all it took and he sprang to he bleeding feet and forced his aching body and screaming muscles to run again. Then he slammed face first into something solid, the force made him bounce back land on his shell, scraping it badly in the process. Then he struck by utter and complete terror. _THEM._ It was _THEM. THEY_ had found him. His friends deaths had been for nothing. He couldn't stop his body from shaking in fear. He looked up, and gasped. Standing in front of him was a mutant turtle. Like him. Only older, and stronger. The turtle was wearing brown things around his knees, elbow's, and wrist's. He also wore a piece of cloth tied around his waist and his chest. Like Slink and Rug wore belts around their pants to keep them up. Only the turtle wasn't wearing pants, and Slink and Rug didn't wear the cloth across their chest. The turtle had something sticking out from behind his shell. Two something's, he also wore a blue cloth across his eyes with holes in it so he could see.

The turtle looked down at him, then slowly reached his hand out to the young shaking mutant turtle still lying on his shell. "Are you hurt? We saw blood." The young turtle froze. Unsure of what to do. Another? Like him? How did he not know this? Then it struck him. This was the trick. He scrambled away, scraping his elbows and heels against the rough cement, then sprung to his feet. All pain and exhaustion forgotten. "LIES! TRICKS!" He screamed, his voice raking against his raw throat. He ran around then past the turtle. He had to get away! The turtle was with _THEM_, had to be! There were no there answers, so he ran. Until arms reached out from the shadows and grabbed his shoulders, forcing him to an abrupt halt. He was face to face with a another turtle, this one was darker and wore a red cloth across his eyes. "Calm down kid. We're jus tryin' ta help ya dats all. We aint gonna hurtchya kid." Anger boiled his blood and made him brave. "MY NAME IS NOT KID!" He screeched, only abusing his raw throat more so. "AND IT IS NOT 00204! MY NAME IS MARVEN!" His voice cracked at the last minute, his anger leaving him and the terror returning causing his body to shake fearfully once more. The dark turtle looked shocked, Marven took his only chance and shoved the turtle away with all the strength he possessed in his arms, throwing his torso into the shove as well. The dark turtle stumbled back and Marven ran past him. He remembered what Rug told him. **Fight, fight like a demon until they catch you. Fight like a demon when they catch you. Fight until you forced to give in, and I will be more than proud of you. No matter what. **So he ran. He ran until he reached a wall. A wall with a metal ladder attached to it.


End file.
